A Chance Encounter
by Xavier Phoenix
Summary: Whilst travelling across muggle London, Minerva McGonagall happens to stumble upon a certain black haired, bespectacled boy. Oneshot. Set before Philosophers Stone.


A/N: So we all know that before he came to Hogwarts, Harry unknowingly happened to cross paths with a few of the lesser known characters from the books, and I've always wondered what would have happened if he had met someone who knew him and his family slightly better than the likes of Dedalus Diggle. Written for a bit of fun and to satisfy my ever wondering muse, but as always let me know your thoughts.

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The train gave an almighty lurch as it crossed a junction on the tracks, sending the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts sprawling across the carriage and into the arms of a rather shocked muggle gentleman. Trying very hard to ignore the feeling of complete and utter mortification welling up inside her, she mumbled a quiet apology to the passenger, and tried to regain what was left of her usually dignified composure.

Despite growing up a half blood, Minerva was not fond of muggle transport, preferring the relative ease and reliability of magic. Today however, she had little choice in the matter. For security reasons, the ministry had restricted magical travel in various parts of the country as they began preparations for the european quidditch championships which would be taking place later in the week, and as a result she had been forced to travel the final few miles of the journey to visit her brother by train.

Spotting a vacant seat by the window, she sat down with a tired sigh, and watched as the trees flew past in a blur. Her responsibilities at Hogwarts meant she rarely had the opportunity to spend time with her family, but every so often she was able to clear some space in her otherwise hectic schedule, and make the trip to London where the youngest of her brothers resided with his family.

Smiling slightly, she imagined how much Malcolm's children must have grown since her last visit, but as always, those thoughts left her feeling more than a little melancholy.

Minerva had come to the realisation many years ago that she would never have children of her own. Refusing Dougal's proposal had meant turning her back on the chance to have a family in order to fulfill her ambitions in the wizarding world. The deputy headmistress only had to think of her own mother to know that she would have had far more regrets giving up a life of magic, but it still hurt to think of the life she could've had if she had said yes all those years ago.

Her musings were disturbed as the train slowed to a stop at the next station, and the doors nearest to her slid open to admit the group of passengers waiting on the platform. Amongst the general commotion of people stowing away their baggage, and settling down into their seats, a high-pitched wailing suddenly filled the carriage, causing Minerva to turn towards the newly boarded passengers, in search of its source.

She watched with ill hidden disapproval, as a young blond haired boy sitting a few seats away, screamed relentlessly at his mother demanding to be given more sweets than the already monumental pile sitting on the table in front of him. The mother, who looked vaguely familiar to Minerva, tried to placate him by pulling out a few expensive looking toys from the plastic shopping bags by her feet, but this only caused him to shriek louder and slide out of his chair to throw a tantrum on the floor.

Wincing slightly at the sheer volume of noise the boy was making, Minerva had to suppress the sudden urge to cast a silencio charm on him, and instead pressed a slender finger to her ear to drown out the racket. Over the years, the transfiguration mistress had perfected the art of controlling a class without effort. She had little time or patience for indulgence of spoilt children, and those students who came to Hogwarts believing themselves above the authority of the teachers quickly learnt to behave in a respectable manner in her classroom or risk facing her legendary wrath.

Trying to contain her growing irritation at the antics of the spoilt boy, Minerva made to turn back towards the window, but froze suddenly, her heart skipping a few beats, as it dawned on her just _who_ his mother was.

It had been years since she had last seen Petunia Dursley, but as Minerva's gaze travelled over her once more, she noted that the woman had changed very little, except perhaps to sport a few more lines on her bony face and some newly emerging grey streaks in her hair.

The young boy, she realised, must be their son. He had the look of the thick-necked man who sat beside him, but the remaining member of their family was conspicuously absent. Minerva frowned as she scanned the carriage once more, wondering why Harry Potter wasn't sat with his aunt and uncle, when suddenly she caught sight of a familiar mop of jet black hair.

He was standing no more than a few feet to her left, and despite herself, Minerva felt long buried emotions stir at the sight of the boy-who-lived. He was the living reminder of the two wonderful people she had grown so fond of both at Hogwarts, and later. His green eyes were as bright and piercing as Lily's had once been, but otherwise he could have been James' twin.

James' rather underfed twin, she did not fail to notice.

She glanced between the boy and his surrogate family, wondering when Petunia Dursley would realise that her young nephew had been left without a seat on their journey. But as the mother continued to fuss with her son, and the young wizard continued to stand apart from them, the awful reality of Harry's upbringing began to unveil itself before her eyes.

The Dursleys did not love their nephew.

To them, he was an unnecessary burden, to be borne with, under whatever command (and most likely threat) Albus had placed in that letter all those years ago. And whilst Harry had been given houseroom with his last living relatives, he had clearly never been accepted into their hearts. Her instinct had been right on that fateful Halloween night. They really were the worst sort of muggles.

As the train continued its journey across muggle London, Minerva found herself stealing occasional glances at the only other magical occupant of the carriage. Whilst Dudley Dursley was content to scream the entire train down, his cousin came across as quite the opposite. She watched curiously, as Harry hunkered as far as possible into his oversized sweater, and kept a steady distance between himself and the rest of the passengers on the train.

A uniformed muggle passed through the isle pulling along a trolley loaded with various snacks, and much to the relief of all the passengers on board, Petunia was finally able to pacify her son and buy him his long awaited packet of sweets. As the attendant moved on, and Dudley tore happily into his treat, Minerva once again noticed that Harry's existence had been completely ignored by his family.

Resisting the temptation to break the International Statute, and hex some sense into his confounded relatives, she instead let her gaze fall back to the young wizard, and saw that the boy was beginning to tire from standing for so long, shifting his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. The witch was halfway towards getting up and offering him her own seat, but a muggle woman beside her was quicker to the task.

"Why don't you have a seat love?" she said, gesturing to the newly vacated area beside Minerva, "I'm getting off at the next stop anyway."

Harry looked momentarily surprised at the kind gesture, Minerva suspected that he had been on the receiving end of very few from the Dursleys, before casting a surreptitious glance towards his relatives. Seeing that both Vernon and Petunia were busy fawning over Dudley, he gave the lady a shy smile and sat down.

As he leaned back into his seat, Minerva found herself acutely aware of his proximity, and for one wild moment, wondered whether Harry knew just whom he had chosen to sit next to. But as her momentary panic faded, she shook her head slightly at the ridiculous notion. From what she had garnered from Albus over the years, Harry had very little, if any, knowledge of the world he truly belonged to, and as such would not recognise the Deputy Headmistress of Britain's leading wizarding establishment. Nonetheless Minerva found herself sitting a little straighter, trying very hard not to glance his way too often.

He was a quiet boy, she noticed, and tried very hard not to draw too much attention to himself, if his posture was anything to go by. She felt a wave of pity for him at the thought of his imminent introduction into the wizarding world. The poor boy would be thrust very much into the limelight, his every move closely watched and remarked upon, and she only hoped Hogwarts would remain for him what it had been to so many others, a place of sanctuary.

Before she knew it, the train was pulling into its final stop, and the remaining passengers began to congregate near the doors, ready to make a hasty departure and catch their onward connections. Minerva, in no such hurry, lingered towards the back of the group, mentally mapping out the route to Malcolm's residence.

Lost in thought, she found herself brushed aside rather forcefully as the doors opened. Turning to react angrily to the passenger, she realised it was none other than Vernon Dursley, dragging his wife and son behind him, as he, along with the rest of the travellers hurried out of the train towards the station exit. Muttering a few choice words under her breath that would have made even the Weasley twins blush, it took a moment for Minerva to notice that she was not alone standing in the now nearly empty carriage. Harry, having seen what had happened, had remained behind as the crowd dissipated and was now waiting with the door held open in one hand.

"After you" he said politely, gesturing for her to precede him.

The normally stoic professor allowed a gentle smile to grace her features as she gazed down at the boy in front of her. Despite all that he had been through in his short life, Harry truly was his mother's son, and the thought warmed her heart.

"Thank You Mr Potter" she said quietly, descending the steps onto the platform with a grace that belied her age.

It took a moment for the young boy to register what she had just said.

"Wait!" he called out, poking his out of the train doors, "how do you know my-"

But it was too late. Scanning the people on the platform, he realised that she had already vanished. Shaking his head slightly at the strange encounter, he picked up the remainder of the Dursley's shopping, and followed them towards the car park.

* * *

_1 year later_

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She was standing behind the magnificent doors guarding entrance to Hogwarts' hallowed halls, when Hagrid's giant knocks reverberated across the entrance hall. Slipping into her facade as the strict, stoic Transfiguration Mistress, she pulled the doors open, allowing the school's newest recruits to step over its threshold for the first time and gaze in wonderment at the castle's impressive interior. The high arched ceiling and sweeping stone flagged floor were an impressive sight to behold, and Minerva could still recall how the place had captured her imagination the very first time she had walked through its doors.

Leading the group into the small entrance chamber beside the Great Hall, she turned and allowed her gaze to wander over the latest intake. Minerva spotted several familiar faces, many of them children and even grandchildren of students she had taught in years gone by. A young blond haired boy bore all the hallmarks of the Malfoy family, whilst the redhead could only be another Weasley. Standing beside them, with his trademark messy black hair, was young Harry Potter.

Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and as a mild flicker of recognition passed across his face, she wondered whether he would recall their chance encounter on the train. However the next second it had vanished, as the youngest Weasley boy leaned over to point out a grotesque gargoyle statue beside them, distracting his focus.

For some reason, perhaps it was Albus' worried countenance of late, she could sense a darkness approaching their world and it left the normally stalwart professor with an increasingly uneasy feeling in her stomach. Minerva knew that if and when dark times descended, Harry would be in more danger than most. As the last of the first years crowded into the entrance chamber whispering excitedly to each other, she made a silent vow to Lily and James that she would do everything in her power to protect him from their fate.

But first things first, she had a speech to make.

"Welcome to Hogwarts….."

Finite

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A/N: Although at present this will be left as a oneshot, whilst I force myself to compete both memories in a bottle and christmas wishes, I'm finding myself more and more drawn to writing about these two. I'm half tempted to expand this into a Minerva mentors Harry fic, covering various moments from Harry's time at Hogwarts, but it depends on what you all think so far?


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